1000 Paper Cranes
I thought that you knew her,
I thought that you cared.
But what am I to do,
At four in the morning,
With her back against us all?
Running out of runarounds,
Gently down the stream.
How could you make me who I am,
When I made you who you are?
Gently to the end with me,
Rowing at your side.
Through Denver's cold and frozen eyes,
I thought I saw, I thought I saw you standing there.
Unclouded end.
Clearly words work themselves back to me.
From the top of the bottom it's all the same.
"It's all the same," she screamed, she screamed, "It's all the same."